


Wildest Dreams

by GG_and_MM



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, The official story of Dean wearing Rhonda's pink panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GG_and_MM/pseuds/GG_and_MM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember when Dean got thrown into the End!Verse and came face to face with the future version of himself?  And the only way he could convince his other self that he was himself from the past was to confess something that only Dean knew:  One time he wore Rhonda Hurley's panties.  They were pink, and santiny, and he kind of liked it.  This is the story of how Dean ended up wearing those panties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildest Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Gabe's Girl to fill a prompt by Miss Moose.

_I said, "No one has to know what we do,"_  
_His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room_  
_And his voice is a familiar sound,_  
_Nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now_  
  
_He's so tall and handsome as hell_  
_He's so bad but he does it so well_  
_And when we've had our very last kiss_  
_My last request he is_  
  
_Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress,_  
_Staring at the sunset, babe_  
_Red lips and rosy cheeks_  
_Say you'll see me again_  
_Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ha, wildest dreams, ah-ha._  
  
_You see me in hindsight_  
_Tangled up with you all night_  
_Burning it down_  
_Someday when you leave me_  
_I bet these memories_  
_Follow you around  
_ \-- Wildest Dreams, Taylor Swift 

*******************************************************************************

Imagine Dean looking like this when you read this story:  


Dean drove east out of town, the setting sun hitting his rear view mirror. He looked back, the bustling university full of youth and promise fading into the distance.

"Towns like that bring back memories," Sam said softly, leaning his head against the window. 

"Yeah, bet they do," Dean replied, laying his foot into the gas. 

Sam was probably thinking about Jess, or wild parties when he left for college. Well, probably not wild parties. Wild for Sammy was probably a Saturday night in the library. Dean chuckled at that thought.

Dean may not have gone to a fancy college but he had a few memories of his own, most of them involving college girls that he'd known a few over the years. Maybe they hadn't been like Jess to him, but he still thought about them from time to time. Especially one in particular.

He'd been working a case in a college town right after Sam left for Stanford. It was one of his first jobs alone and Dean had something to prove. He wanted to show his dad he'd be fine on his own, but he was trying to prove it to himself just as much. He was in his mid-twenties, stupid and cocky thinking he knew it all, but scared to be on his own at the same time. 

So when he wandered into a nightclub on a Thursday night and saddled up to the bar he was feeling a little out of his element. He normally drifted towards dive bars, but this college town was hopping with people his age, and low-key smoky bars just didn't seem to be around. 

He saw her the minute she walked in. She was wearing a black dress, the skirt short enough that she couldn't sit down without closing her legs to keep everything from showing, spike heels setting off those perfect legs. She reeked of money, everything about her was expensive. He openly looked her up and down and then turned away. Her shoes cost more than he'd probably spent altogether in the last year, and guys were falling all over her already, guys in preppy clothes that were throwing drinks at her. She obviously came here often enough, she knew the crowd, and she didn't even look in Dean's direction. 

He ordered another beer and winked at the bar tender. She was pretty, he remembers thinking that, but he can't remember any details about her. Blonde maybe? Hell, who knows. He remembers getting a smile and a wink back though, and thinking he had it in the bag. His dick stirred at that wink, promise of things to come.

An hour later and the bartender was leaned toward him over the bar. She was blonde, yeah, definitely blonde, and older, maybe early thirties. He remembers her cleavage more than anything though, she had nice cleavage. They were trying to talk over the blaring music. 

"Is it always like this on a Thursday?" Dean yelled.

She nodded. "It's like this every night," she yelled back. 

"I don't know how you stand it. You wanna go someplace quiet? What time do you get off?" 

She looked like she only heard half of that, and then her eyes shifted to his right and she straightened up. 

"Can I get you something?" the bartender asked someone. 

When Dean glanced over it was the rich chick. 

She gave him the side eye and looked back at the bartender. "Whiskey sour," she said. 

Dean raised his eyebrows and sipped his beer. He wouldn't have pegged her for a whiskey girl. He contemplated hitting on her, but she was way out of his league. Not that that would normally stop him, but he knew he had a sure thing with the waitress so why screw that up hitting on a chick he probably had a less than fifty percent chance with? Hell, if he was being realistic it was probably less than thirty; some of those dudes she was sitting with were hot. Chicks were falling all over them, they looked like assholes. 

"Too loud in here for you?" 

Dean looked over at her and studied her face. She was gorgeous, long brown hair hanging in perfectly straight layers. Her black dress scooped low, showing the tops of her tits and the hint of a red lace bra. Dean looked at her lips, dark red lipstick making them stand out. She touched her bottom lip with her tongue and he met her eyes. 

"Not my usual scene," Dean said before he tipped his beer bottle back again. 

She watched him closely. "What's your usual scene?" 

The waitress walked up and slid the whiskey sour over. Dean looked at the waitress and smiled, flashing teeth. She winked. 

He turned back to the beautiful girl. 

"What?" He cocked his head, acting like he couldn't hear her. The waitress might be a sure thing but it's not like Dean had ever been able to resist flirting. 

She leaned in and he could smell her perfume. A little flowery and a touch of musk. Probably cost more than everything he owned for a bottle of that. He felt her breath on his ear.

"What's your usual scene?" She leaned away again, meeting his eyes. She had dark brown eyes, bedroom eyes. 

He imagined her closing her eyes as he pushed inside her.

He cleared his throat. "Usually some place with a pool table and darts. A juke box instead of a DJ, and the beer costs a third of the price." 

She smiled a little, "I have a pool table in my apartment," she said. 

Dean was surprised. Should he interpret that as an invitation? 

She looked over her shoulder, there was the sound of people yelling behind him. 

"I gotta go, my friends are calling for me," she looked at Dean's mouth, "feel free to join us if you want." She turned with a flip of her perfect hair and walked away. 

He couldn't help following her tight ass across the room with his eyes. The guys at her table saw it too, every one of them shot him a glare. He shook his head and turned back. 

The waitress was standing there. What the hell was her name? Had he even asked it yet? Better not even risk it. 

"Did you ever tell me what time you get off, sweetheart?" he asked. 

She leaned over the bar again and he couldn't help his eyes dropping to her chest. 

"Honey, I don't even swing both ways and I'd fuck her. Get your ass over there." 

Dean choked on his beer. "What?!" He coughed again and laughed when he saw the waitress grin. "I seriously doubt she's interested, we're not exactly in the same tax bracket," Dean finally said. 

"Oh please, what do you think she walked over here for? Any one of those rich jerks would have broken their arm to get her that drink, she came over here to gawk at you. The hot guy in the leather coat who's paying her zero attention." 

Dean looked at her for a second. "You think?" He glanced over his shoulder, the brunette had her back to him, a guy on either side of her. She sipped her drink. He turned back to the waitress. "Looks like she's got her hands full with those preppy jocks."

"I don't think, I _know_. She's not interested in those guys." She pulled a towel down and started drying glasses. "Besides, I thought I had a night free but I just got a phone call and my plans have changed. If I'm not taking you home, then let her be the lucky girl." 

Dean smiled and looked down. "That's too bad," he said, picking at the label on his beer bottle. 

"Yes it is, and I'd tell you to come back tomorrow, but something tells me you're not sticking around long." 

"You're right." Dean tipped his bottle to her before downing it. 

"Figured. So go get her. I'll be imagining you and her when I finally make it to bed tonight." She looked Dean over and smiled before she walked away. 

The whole conversation had been loud and the young guy on Dean's left was openly staring at him. Dean looked at him, the kid had to have just turned legal age. He looked like it was his first time in a bar, a small dorky kid, and he was staring at Dean like he was a god or something. Dean nodded to him and stood up. 

He looked at the bustling table. Drunk girls falling into guys' laps, the guys slapping their asses as the girls squealed. He had no desire to take a seat with them. And the gorgeous one still had her back to him. She laughed at something the guy to her left said, and just then the guy to her right stood up. 

Dean walked over quickly, if he got shot down then whatever, if he got into a fight then whatever, but he couldn't leave here without even trying. He dropped his face down by her ear and slid her hair back. 

"You up for a game of pool?" he said against her earlobe. 

The commotion around the table died down. The girls sat up straighter and the guy on her left looked over and stood up. She turned her face towards Dean and looked at him, but she didn't smile. 

"He bothering you?" the guy in the polo asked her. 

Her expression turned utterly annoyed and she rolled her eyes. She stood up and looked at the guy in the polo and then turned to face Dean. 

"Not at all, we were talking earlier and I asked him for a ride home. He's leaving now so I'll catch you guys later," she said. She reached out and took Dean's hand. 

"I can take you home," polo shirt said. 

Dean looked at the guy then. "Believe me, it's no bother." He pulled her towards the door. They fought through the crowd and he put his hand on her lower back to guide her through the door. He turned and looked at the bar. 

The bartender nodded. The young kid was staring at Dean with his mouth hanging open. Dean tipped his head to them and turned and followed her out. 

The silence outside the club had been deafening. The squeak of the Impala door when he opened it for her had sounded like it would shatter your eardrums. She smiled up at him as she pulled her leg into the car. God, her legs were perfect. Everything about her was perfect. He clicked the door shut and walked around the car. 

"What the fuck are you gonna do with this one, Winchester?" he mumbled to himself.

He slid in behind the wheel and looked over. Her legs were closed, pretty knees bent towards him. 

"Where to?" He asked.

"Take a left out of the parking lot," she said. 

He started the car and she smiled, looking around the interior.

"I figured you drove something like this." 

"Like this?" he asked, hanging a sharp left. 

She put her hand down between them to brace herself, her perfect red nails standing out against the black seat. 

"Yeah, you know, something cool. A real car. One that smells like gas and beer and manly stuff." 

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded. 

"I didn't mean it as an insult. Most of the guys I know have cars handed to them, if we get a flat tire they call Triple-A. You just don't strike me as that type." 

Dean chuckled. "No, Richie Rich, I'm not that type." 

"Richie Rich?" She sounded slightly offended and somewhat amused. 

"Hey, just callin it like I see it, honey. Pretty sure your purse cost more than this car." 

"Yeah, well, don't hold it against me. Hang a right up here. The garage for my apartment is a block and a half down after that." 

Dean turned right. "Your apartment has a garage?" The neighborhood had been seriously nice, brownstones that probably cost more than most people make in a lifetime. 

"Yeah, two-car, but I only use one side. You better park in there though, if you park on the street word might get back to my dad." 

"Yeah, okay."

"Right here." She pointed to the entrance and the garage door rose when she pushed a button on her keychain. Dean pulled in, the Impala purring as he slid it in park.

He walked around the car and opened her door, looking at the shiny silver BMW next to Baby. 

"That yours?" he asked. 

She nodded.

"Course it is," he muttered under his breath. 

"Hmm?" She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Nice car," he said quickly, smiling.

They walked to the door and she hit a button on the wall, the garage door lowered behind Baby, tucking her in. She grabbed his hand again and pulled him inside. 

The apartment was a blur. They entered through the kitchen and she tossed her purse on the table. Dean followed her as she wandered through a dining room and living room and into a game room. She flipped a switch and a hanging light lit up a full size pool table. 

"I don't actually play pool," she said. 

Dean strolled to the table, he pushed the balls around making them click and clatter. 

"Then why do you have this?" 

She shrugged and slid up to sit on the side, close to where Dean was standing. Her dress was so short, she kept her knees together.

"I don't know, came with the place I guess."

"Well, that's a shame, Richie Rich, this is a nice table." 

She looked away for a second. "Don't call me that. I'm not rich, my dad is." 

Dean stepped in front of her, tipping her chin up. He didn't know her name, he hadn't even asked.

"I'm sorry, what's your name? I'm Dean." 

"Rhonda, Rhonda Hurley," she smiled at him. 

"Nice to meet you, Rhonda." 

She stared at his mouth when he smiled. She obviously knew what she wanted. She grabbed him by his leather coat and pulled him down, kissing him softly at first. 

Dean put his hands by her thighs on the pool table. He kissed her back, their mouths opening and exploring. He slid his thumbs along her thighs, where the bottom of her skirt hit. 

She pulled back, her face close to his. 

"I thought for sure you were going home with that bartender," she said. 

Dean looked over her face and tried to decide what to say. _Fuck it_ , he thought.

"I was, her plans changed." 

"So I'm second best?" 

"Oh, honey, I don't think anyone would ever call you second best." 

She kissed him again, heated and hard. Her hands fisting in the leather as she pulled him closer. She hiked her dress up so he could stand between her legs. 

"I can taste that whiskey," he said when she broke away.

She smiled. "You know what I've always wanted to do?" she asked, trailing kisses down his jaw.

"What's that?" Dean slid his hands up her thighs, pushing the bottom of her dress up to her waist. 

"Fuck on this pool table." She bit his earlobe gently.

Dean chuckled. "Nice girl like you talking like that, that's pretty hot." He slid his hands over her legs, so his thumbs grazed her inner thighs. 

"I don't have any illusions as to what this is, I want to fuck you and I think you want to fuck me too," she said against his neck.

"I definitely want to fuck you too," he trailed his thumb up the outside of her lace panties, making her gasp. "You're already wet for me." 

He pushed her down and pulled the bottom of her dress up with his teeth. The red lace of her bra and panties was beautiful next to her milky skin. He nuzzled below her ribs. 

"Take this off, I wanna see you," he whispered into her belly button. 

"Rip it off," she told him. She raised her arms above her head, her hands shaking a little. 

Dean rose up and looked down at her. "You don't have to tell me twice." He grabbed the delicate silky fabric of the dress and ripped it down the center. He ran his hands over her lacy bra, sliding down her stomach and around her waist, lifting her up a little.

"Leave the shoes on," he said, smiling down at her wickedly. She laughed. 

Dean slid a finger over her panties again, feeling the wetness. Her reactions to everything were big, like she was overly sensitive. She gasped, her hands gripping at the edge of the pool table over her head. He could see her fingers shaking.

"Hey, you okay? I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise." Dean looked into her eyes seriously, he wanted to make sure she wasn't scared of him. 

"Yeah, I know, I'm just really turned on," she said. 

He heard her breath hitch as he ran his palm up over her stomach. 

"You touch me different," she mumbled softly as she arched her back, turning her head to the side to expose her neck. 

Dean couldn't resist that neck. He pushed her thighs wide apart and lay down over her, pressing his aching cock against her. He was still fully dressed and his jeans were feeling way too tight.

"What do you mean?" he said against her racing pulse, kissing and licking down to her collar bone. 

Even her breathing was shaking now and he heard a soft whimper as he ground himself between her legs. 

"Every other guy I've been with would be done by now," her hands feathered in Dean's hair as he bit at her nipple through the red bra, "Holy shit!" she gasped. 

Dean threw his jacket off and smiled as he kissed his way lower, rubbing his jaw over her belly button. "Oh, sweetie, we're just getting started." He took the top of her panties in his teeth. 

"Rip those too," she said, looking down at him. 

"No way, you look perfect in these." Dean glanced up and saw her grin. 

"Trust me, I've got more, tons more. Rip them." 

Dean held eye contact with her as she watched him shred the lace between his hands. He lowered his face between her legs and inhaled deep. He heard her head fall back onto the pool table. He smiled as he kissed inside her thighs. 

"You smell like heaven," he kissed the outside of her slit and she raised her legs, hooking the high heels on the ridge of the table and letting her legs fall open for him. 

"Look how wet you are," he said softly as he gently licked up her center. Her clit was huge and hard and he rolled a circle around it with his tongue and she moaned loudly. He pulled back and ran his nose up her thigh. 

"I don't know who you've been with, but they're idiots," he dipped his tongue to her center again, he could see her thighs quiver, "they should be worshipping every inch of you." She hissed when his tongue touched her clit again. "Those noises are turning me the fuck on." 

Dean's cock was hard as a board and he pressed his tongue to her clit and didn't let up. She was gasping and moaning as he rolled his tongue around it, across it, up and down. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him there like he might pull away. He wasn't going anywhere, he could tell she was close. 

He slipped his middle finger inside her and she practically screamed. 

"Come for me, baby, come on," he said with his face buried between her thighs. He started the alphabet with his tongue tight to her clit, fucking her with his finger. He could hear her holding her breath.

"Yes," she finally breathed deep, gasping as he felt her clench around his finger. "Oh fuck yes!" She squirmed and tried to pull away and he locked his arms around her legs not letting her move an inch. 

He didn't let up on her clit and he tongued her through one orgasm and into another, leaving her a shaking, gasping, screaming mess on the pool table. He rose up and looked down at her, watching her catch her breath and slowly come down. 

"I've never done that before," she finally said.

"What, gotten off?" Dean asked surprised. 

"No, not that," she slapped his arm, "although I've never got off with another person before, or back to back like that either so I guess that's three firsts," she smiled up at him, "I meant I've never had a guy eat me out before." 

That was a serious shock to Dean. "Are you kidding?" 

She shook her head no. 

"What the hell kinda guys are you sleeping with? Do they expect you to suck their dicks?" 

"Yeah but I hate doing that, then they won't kiss me after. Why do you still have all your clothes on?" she asked, sitting up and tugging at the waist of his jeans. 

"Wait a second, you mean these guys expect you to put their cocks in your mouth and then they won't kiss you?" 

"Yeah, why are we talking about this?" She yanked his belt out and tossed it aside. 

"Where do you find guys like this?" She was watching Dean's mouth. 

"I don't know, just the guys around here, I guess. My dad knows their dad, we meet through friends, whatever." 

"So they're rich?" 

She was sliding his zipper down and Dean pulled his shirt up and off. She nodded and leaned in to kiss his chest. 

"So rich guys suck in bed, that's what you're telling me?" 

She laughed and looked at him again. "That's what my aunt says. She just got divorced. She always told me, _Rhonda, you want good sex you gotta slum it. Rich guys don't need to be good in bed."_

Dean smiled at her. "So I'm slumming it?" 

She realized what she'd said and fumbled with her hands. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." 

Dean grabbed her face in his hands and grinned at her, perfect teeth showing. "That's okay, I'm about to ruin you for other men. I'll be your 'slumming it'." 

She smiled a little and then stared at his mouth again. "What do I taste like?" 

He put his mouth close to hers and touched his tongue to his lips. 

"You taste salty and a little sweet, I can still taste it. It's so good." He ran a finger over her wet clit and put it in front of her mouth. "Taste it."

She'd hesitated for a second and then parted her lips. He slid his finger in and she closed around it. He wished it was his cock. He pulled his finger out and kissed her deep, pushing her mouth open and pressing his tongue to hers making her moan. She finally got her hand in his jeans and wrapped it around his cock, making him moan back. 

"Holy shit, you're big," she whispered. 

He laughed at that. "I'm a little bigger than average but from your reaction I'm gonna assume rich guys have little dicks too." 

He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket before he kicked his jeans away and pulled out a condom. He tore it open and rolled it on while she watched, her eyes locked on his dick. Dean hadn't been able to read her expression. 

"You still wanna do this?" he asked. 

She looked up then and nodded a little. "Yes. God, yes." 

Dean had climbed on the pool table, laying himself over her as she laid back. He kissed her as he positioned himself to slide in, but he'd pulled back and watched her face as he pushed inside, just like he imagined at the bar. 

Her face was perfect, her eyes half closed, pupils blown wide in her brown eyes. Her mouth parted as she gasped softly while he pushed into her tight heat. He wanted to come and he wasn't even all the way in. He wouldn't let himself. If she was slumming it he was gonna give her something to compare every guy after him to. 

"Look at you, Jesus, you feel good," Dean said against her neck. He rocked his hips, moving shallow inside her, making her whimper. "How do you want it? Tell me how you want my cock..."  
He nibbled on her ear. 

She turned her face toward him. "I want you to fuck me hard. Hard, but slow. Can you do that?" 

"Fuck yes," he growled into her cheek. He pulled back slow, dragging his hips almost in slow motion, and then slammed into her. 

She cried out. 

"Like that? You want me to fuck you like that?" 

"Please," she whined.

Dean yanked at her bra, pulling it down. He heard it rip and he didn't care. He pulled his hips back again and sucked her nipple into his mouth as he slammed in again, making her claw his back. 

"Fuck, that pussy's so good," he groaned. 

He raised up, hitting the hanging light with his head. He'd batted at it and the glass shade had flown loose, crashing into the wall. The bulb flickered and went out, leaving just soft canister lights illuminating her body underneath him from the corners of the room. 

He sat back on his knees and pulled her onto him as he thrust forward, her head pushing back against the hard table. 

She reached down and grabbed the heels of her shoes, she was still wearing those shoes. She pulled her legs open, holding the heels of the shoes while he fucked her hard and slow. The heels were digging in, ripping the felt on the pool table.

He put his thumb on her clit and held her waist with his other hand so she wouldn't push away. 

She let out a strangled cry as he circled her clit with the pad of his thumb. "You gonna come for me again?" 

She nodded, her eyes closed, her back arching up toward him.

"Look at me," he waited until she opened her eyes and looked at him, "you gonna come?" 

"Yes," she said, breathy and needy, "please, I wanna come again." 

"So good," Dean watched her close her eyes again, "so fucking good for me." He circled her clit, watching her come undone as he slid in and out of her. She cried out, squeezing and milking his cock as she came. Finally he couldn't take anymore. 

He laid down over her again and pulled her legs up, fucking her hard and fast. He came so hard he saw stars, cursing into the curve of her neck while he groaned and pistoned in and out of her. 

He laid there for a few minutes and finally rolled to his side. 

"Holy shit," she said, as she hung her legs over the side of the pool table. She finally stepped down and stood up. "My legs are shaking.".

Dean smiled at her. "Good." He looked at her bra, he'd ripped the seam in one side. "Looks like I ruined you bra _and_ panties." 

"That's okay, I told you've I've got tons. Definitely worth it." She kicked her shoes away so she was standing there in nothing but a ripped bra.

The phone started ringing. She ignored it as she looked at Dean laying on the pool table, completely naked except for a condom he needed to take off. She grinned.

They could hear the machine pick up in another room. 

"Rhonda, it's Linds, are you home? You're cell is off, did it die or something? You left with that guy and we wanted to make sure you're okay. What were you thinking? He could be a mass murderer! Come on, pick up before I call the cops."

"Shit!" She swore as she ran from the room. Dean could hear her pick up the phone. "Hey Linds, I'm fine," there was a pause. "No, I'm fine. He was a perfect gentleman, made sure I made it home okay and then took off." 

Dean smiled and stood up, time to hit the road. He tossed the used rubber in a trash can and pulled his shirt and jeans on. He could hear bits of her conversation.

"No, that's okay, I'm not feeling too well."

"No, you don't need to come over. I think I have a fever, probably contagious." 

"Yeah, I'm sure. Positive. I'll just rest tomorrow and probably be fine."

She wandered back into the room a couple minutes later, just as Dean picked the ripped red lace panties up off the floor. 

"Leaving?" she asked. 

Dean looked over at her. "Yeah, figured we both knew what this was, no illusions or whatever you said. Might as well take off." 

"Taking those?" She nodded toward the red lace in his hand. 

He laughed a little and nodded. "If you don't mind, something to remember this by," he looked over at the wall, "sorry about the light." 

She rolled her eyes. "Quit apologizing, you hungry?"

"Huh?"

"I'm starving, I'm ordering take-out if you want something. Come on," she turned and walked out of the room.

He followed her back to the kitchen and she pulled menus out of a drawer and handed them to him. "All these deliver. I gotta go to the bathroom, if you're here when I get back we'll eat, if not I understand. I know what this is, if you don't wanna hang out I get it. I'm just saying, I might not have you totally out of my system yet." She smiled and headed down a hall. 

Dean had stood there shocked. What man in his right mind would walk away from no strings attached, _amazing_ sex? He could head out tomorrow; if he could fuck this chick again he sure as hell wasn't going anywhere right now. 

She came back in a pair or grey shorts and a tank top, ripped bra gone. She beamed when she saw him leaned against the counter. 

"I was hoping you'd still be here." 

Dean handed her a menu. "Number six, please. I'm gonna get my bag from the car." 

She nodded. "You staying the night?" She tried to seem nonchalant when she glanced at him.

"Well, I plan on needing more condoms and they're in my bag. We'll see what happens after that." 

She blushed and picked up the phone beside him.

"I want that bra too," he whispered by her ear before he headed into the garage.

He stayed that night. They'd eaten takeout food after he'd bent her over the kitchen table. She screamed his name right before the doorbell rang from the delivery guy. 

He'd stayed the next day, fucking her in the shower first thing in the morning. They slept here and there, ate more take-out food and fucked over and over. 

They never talked about anything serious. Nothing about their lives or anything real. They kept it simple and laid back. Laughing at stupid jokes, talking about sex.

They'd slept half of Saturday. She got into the shower early that afternoon and told him to pick something from her "top drawer." 

Dean rolled out of bed and wandered to her dresser. He pulled it open and saw bras lined on the left half and panties on the right. There had to be at least fifty of each. 

"Holy cow," he whispered in awe. He gawked at the drawer.

"You find something you like?" she asked from the doorway behind him. 

"Why do you have so many?" Dean said, turning to look at her. 

She smiled as she toweled her hair dry. "I don't know, I like the way I look in them I guess." She strolled over, looking in the drawer. "I like the way they feel on my skin, the silk and satin ones are soft and smooth. The lace ones are kinda scratchy, ya know? Sometimes I like knowing I'm wearing something sexy in someplace where it's not allowed." 

She looked at Dean. "And every time I buy a new set I imagine that they'll be the ones. Those are the ones I finally have the best sex of my life in. I think the red lace ones win that prize and I gave them to you. So pick something, I want a keepsake too." 

Dean crowded into her. "Jesus, that's hot," he said.

"Yeah, so pick something," she kissed him softly. 

He turned back to the drawer. "No pressure," he mumbled, making her laugh. "I can't decide, we'll have to use several." 

He pulled out a black lace set with gold trim and handed them to her. Then he chose a royal blue push up bra with a matching thong, he knew that blue would look gorgeous against her skin. 

She smiled at him when he handed them to her, "I like these." 

He turned back to the drawer and looked it over. He saw something pink tucked back in the corner and he pulled it out. It looked like a half bra half corset, and it had pink satin panties attached. It obviously hadn't been worn. He held it up and turned to her. 

She already had the blue set on and he almost dropped what was in his hand when he caught sight of her. 

"Ohhh that's nice," he said softly. 

She looked up at him. "You like?" She noticed what as in his hand. "I forgot I bought that! I've had that for over a year, we're definitely using that." She took it from his hand and laid it on top of the dresser. "Now, how do you want me?" 

Dean slid his hands around her back and stepped in. "Let me count the ways," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. 

He'd been very careful not to rip the blue set, and he wouldn't let her take the thong off. He pulled it to the side and fucked her with it on, whispering in her ear.

"I want you to think about me every time you wear these. You remember that these are the panties that Dean fucked you in. Remember how I fucked you so hard and so long that you came on my cock over and over. You remember that, okay?" 

She'd moaned and dug her nails into his back. "I'll never forget you fucking me, never." 

"That's good, that's how I want it. You look at every guy from here on out and wonder if he can fuck you like I did. You gonna come for me? Huh? Come for me like a good girl." He reached down and slid his finger over her clit, making her shake and writhe. 

"Oh God, fuck, harder," she moaned into his neck.

"You want it harder? You want me to fuck you hard?" 

"Please, Dean, fuck me," she'd sucked a huge hickey on his neck. "You won't forget me for a few days either," she whispered, and then she'd fallen apart, coming and begging for more. 

"Never forget you, feels so good," he was sweating and panting, her legs wrapped tight around his back. He knew even then that he wouldn't, he'd never forget her. He'd come so hard, losing his rhythm and grunting. 

They'd slept again, knowing that their time had to be drawing to a close. The next day was Sunday, and on Monday she'd go back to class, back to real life. Dean should have left on Friday, he was supposed to be rolling into another town for another case by now. 

No illusions.

They ate that evening, laying around naked and lazy, almost fucked out. They stayed in her bed and watched movies, laughing at Chris Farley and Adam Sandler. Dean had drifted off late that night.

He woke up a few hours later to her moving against him, her ass tucked tight back on his crotch. He was naked and he could feel the silky satin of her underwear sliding on his stiffening cock. 

"You can't get enough, can you..." He'd growled into her hair, slipping his hand down her belly and between her legs. He pushed the satin panties in with his fingers to rub on her clit, making her moan. 

"Not of you, no," she whispered.

"Good, can't get enough of you either." 

She'd shoved her ass back and he'd pressed his cock into the satin. 

"This the black pair?" 

"Yeah," she said, rolling to her stomach. 

He straddled her legs and ran his hands down her back, feeling her shiver under his touch. He slid his hands under her stomach and up her front, cupping her breasts and thumbing her nipples through the bra. 

He draped himself over her back, grinding into the satin covering her ass.

"Love the way that feels, love the way you feel," he'd said, nipping at the back of her neck. 

She tried to raise her ass under his weight. "Don't tease me, I want it..." 

"What do you want? Tell me." He shoved his cock between her legs, he'd be inside her if it weren't for the satin panties. 

"Your cock, fuck me, now." She pushed back and moaned.

He raised up and pulled her ass up with an arm wrapped under her. He bit and kissed at her ass through the satin, finally grabbing the fabric at her waist and ripping it down the back. He reached up and tore the bra loose too. He had a condom on in a second and shoved into her hard, his hands wrapping around to roll her nipples in his fingers.

"Always so wet and ready, so good," he groaned. 

He felt her move her hand down between her legs and knew she was rubbing her clit.

"Can you make yourself come? Huh?" He asked, sliding in and out of her at a fast pace. 

She nodded and whined. "Yeah, don't stop."

"Not stopping, fuck, come on, I like it like this, gonna make me come, fuckkk." He moved his hands to her hips and gripped her waist, God, she felt good. 

He felt her start coming around him within minutes, her muscles tightening on his cock and pushing him over the edge. He gasped as his balls clenched in his gut, his cock twitching inside her. He slowed and stopped, feeling her relax. He let go of her waist and she let herself lay flat on the bed. 

"You come so fast," he said, laying down beside her. "I've never known a girl who could get off so easy." 

"It's only like that with you," she turned her head towards him. "It's gonna suck when you leave." 

"Yeah, it is," he'd whispered to the ceiling. 

She didn't say anything, and he had told himself over and over a thousand times since that night that he didn't _want_ her to say anything. But that wasn't entirely true. Deep down he wanted her to tell him he didn't have to leave, or to ask him to stay, even if he knew he couldn't. Or wouldn't. She didn't though, he just felt her staring at him. 

He fell back asleep and was dead to the world when she started shaking him around five on Sunday morning.

"Dean, hey, your phone is vibrating." she said against his shoulder. 

He fumbled on the bedside table and flipped it open. "Yeah?" he managed.

_"Dean? Where the hell are you?!"_

He sat straight up in bed at that voice. 

"Dad?" 

"Yeah, it's your dad, who the hell else would it be? You were supposed to be in Tucson yesterday, where the hell are you?!" 

Dean was throwing the blankets back and rummaging around for clothes, stumbling in the dark looking for the bathroom.

"Sorry, I'm," his foot caught on his boot and he tripped, "shit! Sorry, I got tied up. I'm headed out the door now. Be there this afternoon if I push hard. I will, I'll be there this afternoon." 

"You got tied up?! With what?! This better not be you chasing a piece of tail, Dean! Dammit, son!" He dad was yelling into the phone, he knew she could hear it all. 

He managed to make it in the bathroom and shut the door. "No, no, sir, nothing like that. I'm on my way." 

He heard a click and he closed his phone. 

"Shit!" He swore as he turned on the shower. He stepped under the hot water and tilted his head back, letting it rush over his head. He'd fucked up again, he'd let his dad down. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled into the water. 

She stepped in behind him and ran her hands across his shoulders. 

"Rhonda, I'm sorry, but I don't have time." He said as he lathered his hair. The shampoo smelled like citrus, clean, like her. 

"I know, it's ok. Let me help you, it'll go faster." She grabbed something from a shelf in the shower and soaped it up, rubbing the scratchy sponge over his back. 

She started at the base of his neck, working little circles onto the tight muscles, moving out across his shoulders blades. She pushed in deep, easing the tightness and stress out of him. He'd finally planted his hands on the wall and just let her do it, damn it felt good. 

"Those girly things always feel amazing," he said. 

She'd laughed. "Why do you think girls like them so much, silly?" 

She worked on a spot on the lower right side of his back, finally putting the sponge down and just using her hands. Her fingers slick and massaging deep. 

"Did you pull a muscle? You're really tight right here." She said. 

He nodded, his head hanging down. "Few months ago." _Chasing a vampire._ He thought that last part but he didn't say it. Her hands were like magic. 

"You should see a doctor." She sounded concerned. 

He laughed softly. "Yeah, not gonna happen unless I'm dying." He stood back up and started washing again. 

"I could call my dad's friend, I'm sure he'd take a look at it for you. He's a good doctor, plus he's just a nice guy. He wouldn't charge you." 

"Your dad's friends are doctors?" He stood under the water, letting it wash the soap away. 

"My dad's a plastic surgeon so most of his friends are doctors." 

Dean shook his head and smiled. She was so out of his league. 

"How are you gonna explain me to your dad's friends?" 

"I don't know, I don't really care." 

That was as close to a real conversation as they'd had all weekend.

He shut the water off and stepped out. He started gathering stuff as he dried off, his toothbrush, razor, shaving cream. He didn't notice her leave the bathroom. 

When he stepped through the door with a towel around his waist he froze. 

"I'm sorry, I know you don't have time but I wanted you to at least _see_ it."

She was standing there in the pink corset bra and panties, her hair piled on top of her head and falling around her face, she look _incredible._

Dean dropped everything in his hands and grabbed her up. "Fuck it, I'm already late," he said into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they fell back on the bed. He ran his hands over the soft fabric covering her ass, his face buried between her tits. 

"This is the hottest thing I have ever seen." He was rock hard like he hadn't already fucked her twenty times in the last few days. He ran his fingers between her legs, not surprised that she was already wet. "Love these panties," he said as he kissed lower, planning on licking her clit.

"Then put them on," she whispered. 

He looked up at her. "What?" 

"Put them on," she said a little louder, taking her hands and hooking her fingers in the waist to pull them down. 

"I meant I like them on you, they're not gonna look like that on me," his face flushed, he could feel it burning. 

She giggled. "Please? I wanna see." She managed to work them off from underneath him and held them out, they dangled from her finger. 

"Seriously?" he asked. 

She grinned big and nodded. 

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I doing," he mumbled as he dropped the towel to the floor. He stepped into them and tugged them up, afraid of ripped the thin satin. They felt... _good_. Slick against his cock, soft and tight. He adjusted his dick so it was laying sideways in them. 

"They're wet from you, I can feel it." He flashed her a wicked smile.

"Turn around, I wanna see your ass," she said, her eyes wide as she looked him over. 

Dean felt stupid as he slowly spun. 

"Holy shit, your ass looks better than mine." Her voice sounded like she was in awe. 

"Bullshit," Dean swore, "no fucking way."

"I'm not kidding, look in the mirror," she told him. 

He stepped a few feet to the side and looked back over his shoulder, taking in his reflection. 

"Damn," he nodded, "not bad." He turned to the front and looked at his cock leaking into the straining fabric. It turned him on a little. He could see her in the mirror, it turned her on too.

"Get over here," she said.

He grinned and walked over to her. She sat on the side of the bed and put her hands on his hips, lowering her mouth to his waist. 

"No, hey, you don't have to," he whispered as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She told him that first night that she hated sucking dick and he'd taken her at her word. He hadn't asked for it or expected it. 

"I _want_ to," she licked his cock through the fabric, "I have to know what you taste like." She nuzzled her face into his groin. She pulled the front of the pink satin down just enough to let his dick spring free, but she left them on him. She licked the wet tip of his cock and smiled up at him. 

"I should be driving right now, you know that?" He said.

She nodded and wrapped her lips over the head softly. 

"I should have been driving _yesterday_ , but I can't..." she licked him base to tip and he lost his train of thought. 

"Can't what?" She asked, looking up at him innocently. 

"Can't get you out of my system, I'm so fucking late and I don't even _care_. Take your time." His head fell back and she swallowed him down. 

He felt her hands skimming over the soft satin covering has ass. It was absurd, him ignoring his dad to stand there and get a blow job in pink satin panties. He had felt ridiculous, and he hadn't cared _one fucking bit_. 

"Lay down," she said. 

He did as he was told, laying back on her bed. She laid her body over his, her mouth sliding down his cock as she straddled his face, sixty-nine style. 

"Oh yeah," he mouthed into her thigh, and then he dove his tongue in and made her scream around his cock. He lapped his tongue over her, fucking her with it. He wouldn't let up, even when she begged him to fuck her. She came, so wet it was practically dripping off his chin. He'd been so turned on that he'd almost come too, but he'd held it back. 

She turned and looked down at him. 

"I'm gonna fuck you while you wear my pink panties." 

How could he say no to that? He'd pulled her down and kissed her hard. 

"You promise me something, you hear?" he growled into her ear as she slid down onto his cock. 

"Anything," she said softly, her eyes closed.

"Don't you ever fuck another guy that won't kiss you after you suck them off, got it? Any guy that pulls that shit, you kick them in the balls." 

She sat back on her heels and buried him deep inside her, making him groan. She nodded and rode him, slow and long, his hands sliding up her thighs. He circled her waist in his hands, traced his fingers over her ribs where the corset ended. 

"You look so beautiful in this, riding my cock," he praised her, "fuck me." 

And she had. He'd never wanted her to stop, he'd fought so hard not to get off but eventually he couldn't hold it back anymore. He slipped his finger between her legs. 

"Come for me, baby, I'm gonna come," he moaned. 

She opened her eyes and looked down, laying her body down and draping over him. 

"I want you on top, I want to come with you on top," she whispered in his ear. 

He wrapped his arm around her back and rolled over in the big bed. He kissed her, trying to make it last. His hand slipped to her clit again, rubbing it back and forth while she rode the edge. He came when he felt her squeezing around him, he hadn't been able to fight it any longer. 

"Shit," he said into her neck, "I didn't want it to end." 

"Me either," she ran her fingers through his hair. 

He'd rolled away and stood up, remembering that he had on the pink panties. He looked down and smiled a little sheepishly. 

"Who gets to keep these?" He asked, pointing at them. 

She'd laughed and looked him up and down. "You. You keep those and I'll keep this." She pointed to the corset top. 

"Deal." He slipped the panties off and tucked them inside his bag. He dressed, taking his time. He picked his stuff up off the floor and put it all away in his bag. 

She finally got out of bed and wrapped the blanket around her. She followed him out of the room, neither of them talking. She walked with him to the garage and watched him throw his bag in the trunk. 

He turned and faced her, not knowing what to say. 

"Dean," she said softly. 

"Yeah?" 

"No illusions but..." She met his eyes. "If you ever come through town again look me up. I'll keep my number in the phone book, just in case." 

He smiled and looked away. "Rhonda, you're gonna get married and have kids, you're not gonna keep your number in the phone book forever for some random guy you spent one weekend with." 

"You're wrong." 

He'd stepped close to her, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. 

"Listen, you just make sure whoever he is that he treats you right," he smiled big, "and fucks you right."

She kissed his cheek and nodded. 

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," she said, biting her lip.

He kissed her one last time, trying to make it count. 

She hit the button on the wall and the garage door slid up, the sunrise just starting to lighten the day. 

He sat behind the wheel and turned the key, Baby roaring to life. He backed out slowly and stopped in the street and slid it up into park. He jumped out and jogged to her, standing in the door of the garage. He gripped her ass and picked her up, her bare legs wrapping around him one last time. He kissed her hard and then set her down, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. 

He walked back to his car and slid in, looking at her. He dropped it into drive and shoved his foot in the gas. He had to leave, he had to get out of there _now_ , that very second. He remembers thinking if he looked at her for just one more second he'd pull back in that garage and never leave her. 

He'd been back in that town a time or two. Her number was in the book every time, but he'd never called. And every so often he'd dig through his bag and find those pink panties, he'd take them out and remember her. What they'd done, how he'd felt for those few days. He wondered if she still wore the blue bra and thong, if she thought about him when she did. If she thought about him when she touched herself, like he thought about her

So maybe his college town memories didn't include anyone like Jess, but they were still pretty damn special. 

He looked over at Sammy sleeping with his head resting on the window and thought about Rhonda Hurley.


End file.
